Chapter 32

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"What happened that night, Jack?" a voice asked from the doorway to his office. Jack didn't bother looking up. He didn't need to, to know which doctor darkened his doorway this time. "It's been nearly a week and the kid won't talk to me. He stays so close to Morgan that Morgan might as well be a stuffed teddy bear."

"How is Morgan doing?" Jack asked softly.

"Better. Has checkups once a week for the time being to make sure his mental state is stable enough. What happened to Walter, Jack? What did you do?"

"I should have guessed the boy would be with you," Jack muttered, finally raising his head from the file on his desk to find Alana leaning in his doorway. The woman somehow looked stronger with her firm expression and pantsuit that she had taken to wearing after their fateful night in Hannibal's kitchen. Her arms were crossed and her lipstick a bright and frightful red that seemed to pull her look of distaste together. She pushed herself from the doorway and closed the door behind her, before coming to stand by his desk. "Have they made contact?"

"They're not stupid Jack," Alana grumbled, arms once more folded over her chest. "Of course they haven't reached back out."

"What are you going to do with the kid?" Jack gave a sigh, rubbing at his chin that scratched against his fingers with the need to be shaved that he had been ignoring. "We can let the state collect him."

"No," Alana said sternly. "You are not going to let him be shoved into the system. He does not deserve that after what you did to him."

Jack frowned. "What I did to him," Jack pondered, making it sound nearly like a question.

"I know you were what happened, Jack. I'm not believing the news. I'm not thick."

"Did the boy tell you?"

"He mentioned it in passing. He doesn't seem to like me much." Alana gave a sharp sigh and took a seat in the chair across from Jack's desk. "Do you have any lead on them? Any ideas where they are at all?"

"I know they're in Vermont," Jack answered, rubbing at his tired eyes. He hadn't slept nearly the whole week, unable to get his guilt to be bitten back. "I don't have anything else. They're too careful and even with how small Vermont is, that doesn't mean I can go knocking door to door until I find them."

"Do they know that the two of them are in Vermont?" Alana questioned, a hand giving a flurry around the room and Jack took that to mean the FBI.

"No," Jack answered softy, leaning back in his chair. "I gave them the story that Hannibal wanted."

"And what exactly was that?"

"They didn't tell you?" Jack asked back, head tipped to the side in question.

"They did not. Said that they needed someone to watch the boy and they would come back for him when the time permitted. So far..." Alana gave a loud exhale. "Time has not been very permitting."

"And you just took the boy?"

"I do not find the idea of owing Dr. Hannibal Lecter anything pleasing in any sense of the word. I do not need him to come and collect." Alana picked at some fuzz at the knee of her pants before her eyes met Jack's for the first time in the conversation. "I take it that you do owe Dr. Lecter something for using his story?"

"We will see if he comes to collect." Jack gave a small nod. "He claimed Molly as his own kill and kidnapped Will and Walter. He's hiding them and everyone is searching for them. But since the 48 hours have come and gone, no one has much hope of finding them alive anymore."

Alana seemed to straighten at this. "They don't?" Jack gave a curious look at the hopeful tint to her voice. "The Ripper kept Miriam Lass alive for two years. They think that he would kill them off that quickly? No bodies have been recovered, nothing horrifically displayed. Not to mention, the world over knows of the doctor's obsession with Special Agent Will Graham. He wouldn't kill Will."

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